A New Problem
by dna2000
Summary: M/M. Matthew and Mary have been married for a couple of years and have a little girl. It's all very grown up - but being so grown up brings hitherto unknown problems! Light-hearted and a bit random.


_A/N: I know I have many stories to update, and I am in the process of writing new chapters for all of them, but this randomly and suddenly happened on Sunday and I thought I'd just finish it off now before I go to bed. Not sure what I think of it! It's the first story I've written which could be set in modern day or in the 1920s…although some language may be anachronistic…I don't know, I had modern day in my head when writing it but it may work either way! xxx_

…

"Is she alright?" Mary whispered, peeping around the door.

"She's all set." Matthew replied over his shoulder with a smile, before turning back to the chubby bundle in the cot, whose little wriggles were slowing now that she'd found a comfortable position to sleep in. Matthew bent down ever so slowly, worried that disturbing the air around his daughter would in turn disturb her slumber, and placed a gentle kiss on her round, rosy cheek.

Mary sighed deeply as she watched her husband and their daughter share a tender moment, her heart swelling and stomach filling with butterflies at the love she felt for them both. It was strange - it often felt as if her body wasn't enough to contain the extent of her love, causing it to produce these funny sensations and these excitable moods, neither of which she had experienced before meeting Matthew. These feelings had multiplied several times over after the birth of their daughter and the start of Matthew's role as a father.

She admired Matthew from the doorway, observing the way his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and his lean back as he needlessly readjusted the soft fleece blankets around the snoozing baby. "I'm sure her bedding is fine, Matthew." She teased quietly. He really did fuss over Ella too much sometimes, but she adored him for it.

"I just don't want her to be cold in the middle of the night." Matthew said, tearing himself away from his daughter's bedside. He walked towards Mary, instantly recognising the smile on her face and the look in her eyes. "What?" He smirked, his twinkling eyes mirroring hers.

"Nothing." Her voice took on all the appearance of innocence, even as she slid her arms around his torso and pressed herself against him, her head arched upwards and her eyes closing as she sought his lips.

Matthew responded to the kiss at once, his own arms winding around her and his tongue meeting hers. After a brief moment, Mary heard him mumble what sounded like protestations into her mouth.

"Hmm?" She asked, pulling away.

"We should go to our room." Matthew whispered, nodding his head backwards towards the cot to remind her that there was a sleeping infant in the room.

"Oh, yes." Mary loosely interlaced her fingers with his and led him to their bedroom, excitement bubbling inside her. It had been almost two weeks since they'd been together – the longest period of abstinence they'd endured aside from the few weeks following Ella's birth. Of course, the current "dry spell" had been unintentional; their lives had been quite hectic with social engagements over the last fortnight and Matthew had been working long hours. Mary had tried to initiate things a couple of times and Matthew had initially seemed eager to proceed, but ended up breaking away before anything really happened, citing tiredness as an obstacle to their intimacy.

This evening seemed to present a welcome opportunity - the baby was sound asleep, they'd both eaten dinner, and there was no reason to wake up early the next morning. Mary felt increasingly warm with anticipation as Matthew lay her down on the bed, his hands spread on her bare back underneath her top. Her kisses grew more insistent and urgent and she pulled him down more fully against her. She whimpered as he moved between her legs, her fingers deep in his golden hair. It was as it always had been; there was no need to think, to actively concentrate on anything – it all just happened in its own blissful way, she was naturally swept away in the tide of him.

A few moments later, however, as Mary's hands knowingly yet automatically reached down to pull up Matthew's shirt, she felt resistance. Not overtly, but there was a hesitance in him, a subtle change in the previously charged atmosphere, which she was able to pick up on.

"Mary…" Matthew breathed, his voice strained, pushing himself up from her body.

The regretful, frustrated tone of his voice was now familiar to her. She reached up to stroke his face, which was frowning in disappointment. "What is it, darling?"

Without speaking, Matthew let out a sigh and rolled away onto his side of the bed, where he sat against the pillows. "I – I can't…" He trailed off, too embarrassed to voice the problem. He merely gestured irritatedly to the lower half of his body. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Oh…well, that's alright, darling." Mary ran her fingers along his scalp soothingly, but he didn't respond to her touch as he usually did. The other times he'd been unable to follow through, he had been apologetic and bashful. But now he was stony-faced, almost angry. "It's not a problem." She tried to reassure him, trying to get him to look at her.

"It _is_ a problem." He replied through gritted teeth, refusing to glance in her direction.

Still craving affection from her husband, Mary leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips. Matthew turned his head sharply to the side, away from her, and reached for his phone on the bedside table. Feeling shunned, Mary sat back in surprise. In all their time together over the past few years, even during his rare bad moods, he'd never refused her affections.

"Are you not going to let me kiss you?" She asked, almost mockingly. Matthew didn't reply, his face was set in a deep frown as he absent-mindedly flicked through his phone. "You're not even speaking to me anymore?" Mary persisted. Again, Matthew sat in silence without acknowledging her questions.

Spurned, Mary shuffled off the bed and stormed out of the room.

…

Thirty minutes later, Mary was sat at the writing desk in one of the spare bedrooms. She'd first sought solace in Ella's nursery, expecting (or, rather, hoping) to find her daughter awake in her cot, crying softly for her mother's nursing. Yet, the baby slept soundly and peacefully, without any need for Mary's care. This did not do anything to ease Mary's anger and sadness at feeling unwanted, so she found a room in which she could shed her tears in solitude, as she always had when growing up.

She wasn't upset with Matthew for not being able to make love to her. She was upset with him for rejecting her so completely, and for not sharing his concerns with her. But what could those concerns be?

Mary suddenly realised why her anger was accompanied by a feeling of sadness and anxiety. This was the third time in less than a fortnight that Matthew had had trouble becoming aroused. She feared that she was losing what she'd held so proudly and exclusively for several years – his desire.

He definitely still loved her – he told her so at least once a day, and besides his words he would _show_ her. He was always gentle and reverent with her, making sure she was not too exhausted from juggling motherhood with her other commitments, cooking her favourite meals for her and generally doing whatever he could to keep her happy. Nothing had changed in that respect from when they were in the early days of their relationship. But there was the other side to them – the spark, the chemistry, the fire – which had always been such a large part of their success as a couple. He'd made her feel alive in ways she hadn't realised were possible. To think that Matthew's feelings of intimacy were beginning to fade, especially so early in their marriage, was devastating.

Footsteps approached the door behind her, and Mary hastily wiped away the tears which had somehow fallen onto her cheeks. She didn't want to see him – she couldn't bear to be around him while knowing that he didn't want her in that way.

"Mary?" Matthew asked timidly, padding over to where she was sat. He couldn't see her face but he could tell from her small sniffle and her posture that she'd been crying. Knowing that she hated anyone seeing her cry, even her husband, he remained stood behind her and lovingly stroked her hair. "I'm sorry for upsetting you." He said softly and sincerely, his hand dropping to rub her shoulder. "I didn't meant to be so brusque – I was just beyond frustrated at myself for not being able to…you know." He winced and shrugged with embarrassment. He moved around to the side of Mary's chair and knelt down beside her. "I love you so much…I don't want to deprive you of anything, especially things that only I can provide you with – and _should_ be providing you with. I really tried to become aroused enough to make love to you, but I just couldn't!" He explained, misguidedly believing that she would appreciate such honesty. He became confused, therefore, when Mary let out a cry – it was half-laughter, half-anguish.

"Oh, well that makes me feel a hell of a lot better!" She scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"W-what…?" Matthew stammered, perplexed by her reaction.

Mary shook her head in frustration. He could be obtuse in the most stereotypically masculine way, sometimes. "Did you think it would cheer me up to know that my husband is _desperately trying_ to find me attractive, but it turns out that such a feat is simply beyond him?" She exclaimed.

Matthew's eyebrows shot up in horror. "What on Earth are you talking about?" He asked.

"I'm repeating what you literally _just_ said to me!" Mary shouted in exasperation.

Ella's cries echoed throughout the house before Matthew could reply. Sighing, Mary raised herself out of her seat and walked with heavy feet to feed her daughter. Unbeknownst to Ella, the timing of her hunger was fortunate for both of her parents. It gave Mary time to cool down from her annoyance at Matthew's unintentional obnoxiousness, and it gave Matthew the opportunity to work out exactly why his wife was so put out.

After tucking the baby girl back into her unnecessary amounts of blankets, Mary left the nursery to find Matthew waiting outside for her. He gently closed his hand around hers and ushered her back into their bedroom.

Mary stood and looked at him expectantly as his mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out.

"I've been trying to think of how to put this, but…well, I seem to be struggling with a lot of things tonight." Matthew let out a self-conscious chuckle at his own incompetence in explaining himself. Sensing that Mary probably wasn't ready to laugh at the situation yet, he decided to force some words out of his mouth. "Look, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Mary was continuing to simply stare at him. "You're gorgeous!" He reiterated.

Mary kept her arms crossed across her chest. She was unconvinced. "It's all very well for you to say that you find me attractive, but the point is that you don't _feel_ anything." Mary explained. "You clearly don't want me in the same way that you used to and there's no point lying about it." She said firmly, although the usual conviction in her voice was tempered by the hurt which she still felt.

"Mary!" Matthew exclaimed, still at a loss for words. "Darling, I can't believe you're thinking like this."

"Can't you?" Mary retorted. "How else did you think it would make me feel to know that you struggle to get...turned on by me?" She asked rhetorically.

"I thought you'd be disappointed in me." Matthew responded. "I didn't for a second think that you'd believe my feelings for you had changed!"

Once Mary Crawley made her mind up about anything, it was difficult for her to be persuaded to believe otherwise. But the sincerity of Matthew's countenance made her resolve crumble. Furthermore, it concerned her that Matthew had expected such a response from her.

"You thought I'd be disappointed in you?" She asked. "Why?"

"Because, what sort of husband isn't able to sleep with his beautiful wife when she wants him to?" Matthew again laughed self-consciously before looking at the floor, his brow creasing into a frown as he considered what had been happening – or failing to happen – with him recently. "It's absurd. You should be ashamed of me, really."

Mary gasped at his remark quickly strode the few steps towards him. "Matthew Crawley, you are being ridiculous!" She chided, hugging his waist and forcing him to look at her. "Don't you dare think I'd ever have a reason to be ashamed of you." She told him.

The corner of Matthew's mouth turned upwards at his wife's reassurance, and he stroked her back fondly. "I did start worrying about this a few days ago." He admitted.

"Really? But it has only happened a couple of times before." Mary queried. She herself hadn't thought of it as a 'problem' until this evening.

"Well…" Mary raised a curious eyebrow as Matthew blushed profusely. "I sometimes…think of you." Seeing that Mary didn't quite understand his mysterious code, he elaborated. "I have rather inappropriate thoughts about you at times."

Mary laughed. "Darling, we're married. How could thoughts of me be inappropriate?"

"It's more where I am when I'm having the thoughts, rather than the content of the thoughts themselves." Matthew explained, smirking at Mary's slightly surprised expression. Indeed, while she knew Matthew better than anybody, he always seemed so straight-laced and prim when out in public. "So, I often end up in quite an awkward - and potentially embarrassing - state as a result, and have to make all sorts of stealthy exits from my office, or strategically position myself behind chairs to conceal the…evidence of my desire for you." Matthew continued, beginning to find the conversation quite amusing. "And this has always happened quite frequently – that is, it did happen frequently up until a couple of weeks ago." He clarified. "I didn't have time to personally visit the doctor so I called him during my lunchbreak and managed to have a quick word. He asked about my lifestyle and said it's probably just tiredness and stress. I've really not been sleeping well at all – I can't seem to switch off at night…I don't think Ella's cold has helped either." He smiled. He obviously wasn't actually annoyed with his little daughter for falling unwell – on the contrary, he'd been fretting and worrying about her endlessly since two days ago. But those worries, compounded with the pressure he was feeling in the office, had made it almost impossible for him to relax.

"Oh, Matthew." Mary said sympathetically, a frown forming on her delicate features. "I didn't realise it was that bad. You should have told me – I wouldn't have even tried to start anything with you if I'd known you were so exhausted."

"It's fine. I quite like it when you 'start things with me'." Matthew smirked again, but Mary was still concerned. She was analysing her husband's face and noticed the small temporary wrinkles which had formed. "Anyway, my point is – please don't ever think that I love you or want you any less than I did before. The only way my feelings change, or ever have changed, for you is by becoming stronger." He said seriously, wanting to make sure that she believed him. The smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes satisfied him that she did. "I suppose I'm just getting older and less virile." He joked. "I'm not in my twenties any more."

"I love you much more now than I did while you were in your twenties." Mary smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his neck. She looked back up at his face. "I should apologise too – I probably overreacted a bit. I had all these ideas running through my head and convinced myself that they were true. I completely overlooked the most obvious and logical solution." She rolled her eyes at herself.

"Don't apologise, I understand." Matthew assured her. "I shouldn't have been so abrupt – I had no idea I'd make you cry." He softly wiped at the cheeks which were now dry with the pad of his thumb.

"No, really, I didn't react normally." Mary emphasised. "I'm going through quite a strange phase at the moment." She said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.

"Let's just say that your virility is more intact than you think it is." Mary suppressed a grin as she watched the meaning of her words dawn on Matthew.

…

_A/N: I'm too tired to even really say anything here, but reviews are always very much appreciated! xxx_


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